


Sought, Red-Handed

by Dikachupe



Series: The Reign of AmeriCorp [1]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, No Incest, No Other Weird Things From Dark Corner of Internet, No Sex, No Tentacles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-04-19 06:50:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4736633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dikachupe/pseuds/Dikachupe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A country wide corporation with its eyes set on the world? A device of mass conquest? A villain who will stop at nothing to complete his goals?</p>
<p>In a world with so many concealed oppositions, who could stand for themselves?</p>
<p>Who could even have the chance to get on their feet?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Secluded Conversation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My best friend; who thought up the title](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=My+best+friend%3B+who+thought+up+the+title).



I was met with darkness, unsettling and conscious darkness. I could feel something over my head, obscuring my vision. The bag was removed and the darkness was replaced with a comforting light.

"I'm so glad you could make it Mr. Jarlo."

"Oh God, what's going on?"

"Answer this, were you in any way responsible for the recent lockdown at AmeriCorp?"

"Uhm... yes?"

"Good, then we have some questions for you in terms of your involvement."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It all ended with falling. The trio of pokémon friends awaiting our ensured doom. And even with the villain having been defeated, their leader was still sad. They were sad because they knew. They knew that there would always be evil in the world, a new villain would always arise from the shadows. Worse than before, because they learned from their previous mentor's mistakes.

But there wouldn't always be more heroes. Not everyone likes putting their neck on the line for others. It's easier just to stand by and let the evildoers control what they will. In this story, there where no heroes that took down the bad guy.

They were the heroes of this adventure, but no one knew that. To everyone in this world, they were criminals. People and pokémon alike would remember them as those responsible for the destruction of the bell tower. But they would be forgotten for doing that as well.

They wouldn't be remembered as heroes.

They wouldn't be remembered at all.

"We wouldn't be remembered at all."

These words were the last ones to be spoken before everything faded to black.

"Well, that was a waste of my money," I said as the credits rolled by. "That had to have been the worst Pokémon Mystery Dungeon game I have ever played."

While waited for the credits to end, I grabbed my phone, went into contacts, and selected 'Lino'.

'Holy crap that was bad' I texted.

'What?' Lino sent back.

'Pokémon Super Mystery Dungeon. I do NOT recommend it.'

'Oh, okay'

I put my phone down and saw the words on the 3DS still scrolling by. I decided to turn off the device, and take out the game cartridge, and place it in my pocket.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"So this was before the incident, correct?"

"What do you think?"

"Sorry. Please, continue."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I placed his face in my hands in boredom, not having any plans past beating that game.

"Ugh, what do I do now?" I asked himself, glancing over to my computer.

Although I didn't really feel like playing any video games, I powered up the device. Maybe I could talk with one of my friends. But for some reason, the stupid thing refused to turn on. And after thirty frustrating minutes, I gave up and went for a late-night walk.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"You went for a walk, while it was dark, in the downtown area?"

"Shut up! I was bored and too tired to notice it was a terrible-ass idea!"

"Why didn't you just go to sleep?"

"I don't know. Why do you keep asking questions that have no significance at all?"

"Point received. Go on."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Anyways, I was just strolling across Baylean Avenue when I heard some noise coming out of an alleyway just across from me. So, I decided to investigate. Yeah, it could have been at cat, but I was still curious.

I came up to the entrance to the alley and peered down the dark, brick-layered hall. I was going to ignore it and continue on my way, until I heard the sounds of another person. The sounds of punching and the voice of a man pleading for his life. But the punching and battering continued, and I couldn't stop myself from intervening. I was part of the football team, and a pretty strong kid. I thought that I might be able to help out whoever it was being beaten alive, or at least lessen his pain by taking a few hits.

Boy was I wrong.

I began striding down the alley with confidence, clenching my fists in preparation to throw down against these brutes. But as I came closer, my pace slowed down to a silent creep and my confidence left me as I saw the assailants more clearly. There were three of them, and they were all ridiculously tall. I hid behind a dumpster and listened closely to what was being said.

"Doctor Remiaro, we gave you a decision," one of them said, as the others stopped beating him. "We said that you would give us one of two things by next week, the TM-1311 prototype or your life."

"As you can now tell, you've chosen poorly," another thug added in. "However, today is your Groundhog Day, cause we're giving you another chance to choose correctly."

"You have the same two choices. Decision number one; you give us the prototype, our boss is happy, everybody wins. Decision number two; we beat you to death and ransack your lab. You're a smart man, Doctor Remiaro, so we know you'll do what's best."

There was a silence among the thugs, and I peeked through a gap between the dumpster and the wall to see a slightly-aged man, grasping onto his life by a thread.

"Fine, I'll give you the damn thing," Remiaro answered wearily. "Just take me to the lab and the prototype is yours."

"You made the right choice Doctor," replied one of the thugs.

They grabbed the Doctor and dragged him back to the entrance of the alley, in my direction. I quickly did something... I both regret and rejoice over, and grabbed a full trash bag. I dumped all the crap inside of it on top of me and remained absolutely motionless. I waited until the car drove off before leaving the pile of garbage.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"And after that? You decided to chase after Remiaro, correct?"

"Yeah, I tried my best to keep with the car."

"And after that didn't work out?"

"I did a Google search on Remiaro and found out where he worked, AmeriCorp."

"Hmmm, noted."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I came up to the entrance of AmeriCorp, spotting a suspicious looking car parked nearby. I rushed to the glass doors, and pushed them open, finding them unlocked. I dashed across the empty lobby, pausing for a minute to catch my breath.

I vaulted the front desk, and turned the computer on to find out where Doctor Remiaro would be, and what the hell this TM-1311 prototype was. It required a login password. I tried a couple random numbers until it notified me that failure to login would cause an alarm.

"Oops," I said to myself, "don't want to do that."

I looked around the lobby until a sign marked "Research and Development" crossed my sight. I ran into the dark hallway, and slowed down to a stop just before the one opened door with light protruding out of it.

I slowly peered into the doorway, and saw the doctor running around his laboratory frantically while the three thugs stood impatiently.

"Come on Doctor Remiaro, we haven't got all day."

"I know, it has to be here somewhere!"

I creeped into the room, and crouched behind a bottle-lined desk. Two of the thugs had their backs to me, the third one looking for the prototype along with the professor.

As I examined the room, something silvery caught my eye. It had a couple of buttons on it with a dimmed red light inside of it. It looked alike to some sort of laser gun.

"Alright Remiaro, that's it," one of them said, "I believe you've done quite enough. We thank you for your help, so here's your reward."

He suddenly pulled out a gun, and aimed it at the heart of the doctor.

"What do you even know what your boss plans to do with such a device?" The doctor asked.

"Nothing big. Just to change every human that stands in his way into inferior animals," he replied.

"No, you can't."

"Oh Doctor Remiaro, I'm afraid to say that we're nearly there."

The thug pulled the trigger, plunging a bullet into the life force of Remiaro. The innocent doctor's corpse fell to the ground, motionless and cold.I stared at his body, a part of me hoping for a miracle. Hoping he was still alive, that I hadn't just seen this man be killed.

"Alright guys, scavenge the lab for this prototype. You know what it looks like, and I don't care what you have to do to find it. Tear down the goddamn walls if you need to.

Without even thinking, I grabbed the silver device atop the counter. I guess I was thinking it was the TM-1311, and I'd be damned if I let some mobster boss change me into a mouse or cat or some crap.

And I almost escaped the room as well. However, I timed my escape in perfect sync with one of the goons throwing a bottle across the room, smashing into the wall directly behind me.

"Shit," I said just before dashing into the hallway and towards the front entrance.

I jumped over the front desk again, and quickly typed in some random letters. And as I hit enter, an ear-splitting siren went off. Using this little distraction, dashed into the doors, which were now locked due to the security system being activated. I tried shattering the glass doors, but to no avail.

The thugs were closing in quickly. I dashed upstairs and locked myself in some sort of meeting room. The large glass window must have been made out of the same materials as the doors, and I was running out of options. I held up the prototype and, aiming it at the window, pressed one of the buttons. Nothing happened.

I examined the prototype, and saw some words scrolling across that read 'Insufficient data, please insert data card.'

I had no time to think, and grabbed whatever I had in my pocket. I jammed the video game into the device, praying that it would work, and fired the laser. It hit the window, bouncing off of the glass and back towards me. I ducked just in time, but the beam continued ricocheting around the conference room.

It finally hit me with such a powerful force that launched me through the window. Straight through the second-story window and back outside of the AmeriCorp facility.

I felt safe, and took a lot of time to get up off of the sidewalk I land on. I felt like gravy, unable to move a single muscle to the point where I questioned if I had any. Slowly but surely, I peeled myself off of the ground.

I looked around for the TM-1311 prototype once I could actually see my hands, and found what it was. No longer the dangerous prototype, just a hunk of scrap metal with a few bulbs and a processor.

"Better to be sure than sorry," I muttered to myself as I stomped on the processor until it was an indescribable shape.

I limped home slowly, painfully. Nothing was broken to my knowledge, but I was bleeding a lot from the numerous deep cuts I received from smashing straight through the window of plexiglass. Surprisingly, the beam didn't seem to have an affect on me, even though I could remember them talking about how their boss would use it to transform his opponents into lesser animals. Maybe it was because I used a video game cartridge instead of a proper data card.

I didn't know, I didn't care. I was still alive and that's all that mattered.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"I opened the front door to my house, but was drugged by you guys before I could even step inside. And now I'm here."

"Okay... thank you for you time Mr. Jarlo. Now if you would, you're now allowed to return home."

"But... but how do I do that? I don't even know where I am!"

"Oh, we've got that part covered."

These words were the last ones spoken before I was, once again, met with darkness.


	2. Misinterpreted Crimes

The darkness was becoming a nuisance to me at this point, and I was ready for it to finally go away. For the light to come save me from this shrouded pest. But the absence of light was obvious as the bag came off and I was thrown out of the van unto the sidewalk. I slowly rose to my feet, but the vehicle had vanished from sight.

"Jerks," I muttered to myself. "Why the hell did they want to know all of that anyways?"

I remembered the prototype, which should still be in the back alley of AmeriCorp. Maybe I should go retrieve the pieces, just to make sure that boss guy doesn't replicate it. But for now, it was late and I was weak. I lost a lot of blood while walking home, and could tell I'd have trouble getting through my front door. As I began walking towards the door, a sharp pain shot up through my leg and all over my body.

"Argh, damnit!" I yelled in agony. "Must've broken something from the fall."

I couldn't just lay there in the street, someone could easily rob me. So I had to power through the unbearable pain, every step hurting more than the last. By the time I made it to the stairs inside my home, I could barely stand. Using the railing, I pulled myself up the steps. It took forever, but I eventually made it to my room.

I let my body fall unto my bed, not having enough energy left to even stand. That's when I past out from fatigue.  
\- - - - - - I woke up the next morning, feeling lightheaded and groggy. I looked over at the clock to see it was an hour past noon. I had slept pretty late into the day, but I wasn't ready to get up. That shocking pain was still lingering, stalking, waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce. I laid there in silence for a few moments before sitting myself upright and getting out of bed. I exited my room towards the bathroom.

Inside of the bathroom, I had an eery feeling that something was off. Kind of like déjà vu, but instead of it being the same it was different. A gut churning feeling that what used to be normal was no more, and that it wouldn't be back to normal for a while. It really set me off, made me feel dizzy. Then again, that could've been the blood loss.

I tried to find the source, the out of place abnormality that just didn't belong. I couldn't see it, I couldn't sense it in any natural process. But I could feel it, and it drove me insane. Was it my hair? My clothes? Was it even me?

It had to be me. The bathroom looked the exact same, as did it's reflection. I looked the same, but my reflection had messed up somewhere. It just wasn't the same. My eyes finally opened up, and the difference became obvious.

"What the hell? My hair... it's blonde?" I asked myself, closely examining the glass.

Somehow, my hair had changed color overnight. Or maybe it has always been blonde? No, my hair wasn't blonde, it hasn't since I was born. But there was no denying what I saw, and I saw a yellow mound of hair on top of my head. Why did this happen?

"Must've been that prototype thing, the TM-1300 or whatever," I said. "Guess I was kinda' right about it's effect on me, or maybe it wasn't the real deal?"

I wasn't completely mistaken for thinking this, why would that scientist give those guys a machine to help them rule the world? And even if he did, I destroyed it. I guess I had saved the world or something.

"Hm," I mentally noted, "neat."

I went downstairs to have some breakfast, and turned on the television as I ate. It switched on to the morning news, some field reporter lady was interviewing an aged man in a long and white jacket.

"...thanks John, I have with me here the CEO of AmeriCorp, Mr. Calean. Now, last night we heard that some sort of break-in occurred resulting in the death of one of your scientists, could you tell us what you know?" She asked as I munched on my cereal. 

"Well our surveillance cameras were down for the most part of the infiltration, but we did manage to catch one of the robbers just as they were escaping."

My chewing slowed. I felt my nerves perk up on the back of my neck.

"Oh. Well, would you mind if we rolled the footage?"

"Of course, we need all the help we can get in catching this perpetrator."

I was static as I cautiously looked up at the screen, refusing to do so much as even breath. I couldn't risk missing this footage, I needed to see those two thugs. I needed to know who exactly to avoid.

"As Mr. Calean said," the reporter spoke as a looping video replaced the interview, "cameras caught the violator just as he was making his escape from the lower levels of the building."

My eyes widened as the TV zoomed in on the second-story conference room. It zoomed in on some kid as he jammed a video game into a prototype, as he fired it, as the beam bounced around the conference room, as it launched into him, throwing him through the window.

Throwing me through the window.

"Oh shit" I said, lost for words in my paralyzingly shock.

"...male Caucasian teenager, attempting to escape with the stolen property and accidentally shooting himself with it. Police believe he is armed with the futuristic device."

Wait, they think I still have the prototype? But I had left it in pieces in the alley. That would mean someone else, had...

"Oh SHIT!" I shouted.

The reporter continued, "Look out for anyone wearing dense clothing, as the criminal is most likely suffering from deep wounds after jumping through the glass."

At her note of the cuts, I looked down at my arms and legs. I was surprised to find absolutely no cuts at all, even with evidence of excessive bleeding. There were numerous spots on my pants and shirt, slashed or crusted with red. But I found no separations in my skin, not even a sign of last night. As if it hadn't happened, as if I hadn't been there.

I was pulled out of my trance by an ear-splitting noise that blasted through the house. I wailed in agony, falling to my knees while holding my ears. The noise soon subsided, but only to come back again moments later. It kept doing this, going on and off, back and forth. I could barely think, I felt like my brain would soon explode. And just as I was about to rip my ears off, the noise finally stopped. The only thing that came back was silence.

I wasn't fast to get to my feet. I lied there for a while, waiting for the aftermath of headaches to dim down. When it did, I got up quickly. Maybe a little bit too quickly. I had difficulty standing, my vision was blurry and threw me off my balance. I limped towards a wall for support, and stood against it until I was able to see properly.

My view swayed across the room, resting on a blinking light for the home phone. I slowly approached it, fearful that noise would come back.

Afraid of why the noise existed.

"Was that the phone," I asked out loud, "ringing?"

I reached out for the phone, but my hand was stopped when I saw something on the palm of it. I turned my hand over to reveal a layer of blood. I turned the other hand to find likewise, then tested just below my ears to feel a liquid running down from them. This almost caused me to fall again, but I kept my balance, as well as my stomach, in check.

My hair on the back of my neck began standing on end, and the air began to fill with a blanket of invisible static. I unconsciously lunged for the phone and grabbed it. It wasn't ringing at the time, but when I pressed the green button, my mom was on the other end.

"Paren!" She yelled.  
"Oh, hey mom," I happily replied. "I was on the TV, did you see me?"  
"See you? SEE YOU?! You were on breaking news! How could I not see you?!"  
"Okay, I get that you're mad, but there is a reason behind all of this. I'm innocent!"  
"Then why are you a criminal wanted for arrest? You know what I'm going to do, don't you?"  
"Wait, you're not actually considering turning me in to the authorities, are you?"  
"I'm so sorry Paren," she forced, "but I already called them. The cops should be at the front door shortly."  
"Wha-, how," I had trouble forcing the words out, "how could you?!"  
"Please, sweety."  
"I'm your son! Your my mom! We're family!"  
"Paren, please don't make this any more hard on me."  
"Oh yeah, sorry! I totally forgot you were the one being ratted out to the cops after almost getting killed trying to..... argh, DAMNIT!"  
"Please don't fight the cops. Just let them arrest you, I don't want you to get hurt."

I was in silence at this point, trying to comprehend what was happening, and how I had been led up to this point. If only I had just moved on past that alley. If only I had minded my own business. If only I didn't have to be such a big damn hero! But how could any of this be my fault? Anyone would've done exactly what I had done, right?

It was all just bad luck. Someone had been plotting to screw me over, and her name was Lady Luck. It could have been anybody else in this damn world, why did it have to be me. I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time, and everything else was just a follow-up.

And now here I was, stuck between a rock and the police, AmeriCorp, some third-world Mafia, and even my own goddamn mother! I had two decisions as I saw it. I could take my mom's suggestion and just give in. Let the authorities arrest me, do some time, and die when the Mafia has an inside guy shank me during a lunch period.

"Or..." I said to myself.

I heard sirens down the street, along with the soft pattering of rain drops on the roof.

"Please Paren, I only want what's best for both of us," my mother said.  
"What's this 'us'?" I said, "'Us' ended when you turned me in..."

The police cars were screeching to a halt right in front of the house. The noise probably should have out me into the coma, but I was now determined. I had a goal in mind, and I would stop at nothing to reach it.

"...I hope you're happy with your decisions..."  
"Paren, don't do anything stupid," she pleaded.

"This is the police, we have the place surrounded! Come out with your hands where we can see them, and things won't have to get messy."

"...because I sure as hell am happy with what I'm about to do. See you never, you son of a bi-"

SMASH!

Smoke began filling the room, cutting me off from my conversation. I dropped the phone just as a squad of S.W.A.T. officers kicked in the door.

BAM!

I could barely see, there was too much smoke, not to mention the lights strapped to their guns were blinding. But then, the prickly feeling came back. After that, I can barley recollect what exactly happened

Everything moved so much slower than usual. I didn't even feel like I controlled what I did then. But I didn't need to think or feel or control. I need to escape. I dashed around the corner, past the front door, and up the stairs. I was moving faster than I though I could, faster than I thought was even possible. I ran into my room, locking the door behind me. I grabbed the top of my dresser, and shoved it down to barricade myself in. I looked out the window, and saw half of the police force. Not just that, a tank had parked itself right in front of the entrance. I saw a police officer who was holding the megaphone. And he saw me as well. I looked at him for an eternity, trying to communicate something to him through my eyes. I tried to tell him that I was innocent, that there was a much greater evil on the loose and I was trying to do what was right just as much as he was. But I couldn't do such a thing. I wasn't capable of any "super powers". Then he nodded, as if he heard everything. As if he actually knew the truth. My confusion was cut short by a sharp pain cutting right into my heart. I fell to my knees, desperately gasping for air. There was nothing in the air, but I felt like my heart was trying to commit suicide by jumping right through my ribs. It was beating faster than an electronic track. I couldn't calm myself down, my heart rate just continued rising. The static feeling was still present, and was as discomforting as ever. I slouched against a wall, coughing my last breaths, trying to replenish my heart with the oxygen it was burning through. I just couldn't inhale as fast as my heart was pumping. 

I could feel my lungs painfully shriveling up like old peppers. Everything was hurting, but I guess that's what death feels like. And it was right at my front step, beating on the door, trying to knock it down. Death wanted to speed up the process for my sake, to prevent me from feeling unnecessary pain. And I surely was feeling it.

Every part of my body had its individual hell of pain, every bone ached in agonizing distress. My sight began fading, failing, leaving me, abandoning me. Everything was becoming darker, both in my room and in my future. I wished for the pain to end, for my death to just come. It wanted to help me, it as trying its hardest to break down the door. But the dresser was in the way. He was fighting for me.

And when he finally opened the door, I saw his teammates. Death..... No.

'Not Death,' I thought, 'not today.'

The S.W.A.T. team filed into my room, all of their guns traced onto me. I felt like I had a blanket over my eyes, because everything was becoming darker. I knew that Death had his fingers on their triggers, he only had to flex to end my life. My sight was zooming in, everything became bigger. But someone had left. My sight was no longer fading, my heart had stopped pumping so quickly, the pain was all gone.

I watched as Death walked out of my room. I guess it really wasn't my time. Or maybe he saw something in my future.

My attention was brought to the barrel of a gun that was staring me down. My eyes began darting around the room, there had to be some way out of this. Death couldn't have just seen jail in my future. I could see nothing to help me. But the officers definitely seemed surprised by something.

It was the first time I had found myself with a gun aimed at me point-blank, but I didn't expect the shooter to be staring at me as if it was the first time they'd seen a human in their life. And they were all staring at me in horror, even more then I was at them. They were all growing in size, becoming freakishly taller then me.

"What the fuck are you?" One of them asked.

I sat there in awe at this question. What the hell did he mean "what are you"?

"I'm a human for God's sake!" I shouted.

They all looked at each other, perplexed by what I had said. They began whispering to each other, one of them muttered some words into his radio. I could pick up what they were whispering as if they were shouting.

"I remember seeing something like it in a game my kid was playing."  
"Which game was that?"  
"Can't remember."

"Hey, what are you all talking about? What's going on?" I yelled, becoming angered by there ignorance of me.

They all kept staring at me, which caused me to look down at my hands. And that's when things got a lot more complicated then before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Chapter 2 is done and I posted it last night at 11! I'm going to have to fix it up like no one's business.
> 
> Seriously though, things are about to get more interesting.
> 
> Just trying to find ways to individualize this story.
> 
> And also working on chapter summaries. And if I should even bother with them. Seems like unnecessary work. If you want someone to read the next chapter, then make the previous one end on a cliffhanger or with the foretelling of future action. That shows the sign of a good author.
> 
> Whatever, hope you're enjoying this story as much as I am.


	3. A Change in Perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Guess who I found lying in an alley under a cardboard box? It's Mr. Barley! Yeah guys, I found him! So now I can finally write in third person. Wait, what? You don't understand how Mr. Barley's absence hinders my ability to write in the third person? Don't worry about that, I'll explain later.

He looked down at his "hands". But what he saw wasn't really of the "hand" variety. It was more like a "paw" or a "not a hand/hands at all" than a "hand." And this came as a great surprise to him.  
"Holy shit! My f*cking hands are paws?! What the f*ck is going on?!"  
He took it very well.

Paren grew more distressed by the second, freaking out at every aspect of his transformation.

"Holy crap I have a tail!! OH GOD IT'S A TAIL AND I'M WAGGING IT!!! HELP ME!!!"  
It must have taken pla-  
"HELP ME!!"  
It must have-  
"Holy shit! How freaking short am I?!"  
It must have take place during his close encounter wi-  
"Oh shit! Electricity? What the hell is going on?!"

Never mind on the encounter stuff. As he became more distraught with his new self, electricity was bouncing around the room, jumping everywhere and nearly connecting with one of the officers. Paren tried to stop the electricity that was shooting out of his cheeks, but his failed attempts resulted in a drastic increase of electric bolts. They zipper around the room, and began hitting the officers with a deadly shock. One by one, the members of the S.W.A.T. unit began falling to the ground. Paren couldn't tell if they were dead or not, but was afraid to approach them.  
If they were still alive, and he touched one of them, they would most definitely die from his overcharge. He looked for something rubber, anything that could repel his electricity, to prevent any further harm. His eyes scanned his bedroom, until something of glistening familiarity caught his attention. It was a silver device, with an empty chamber of glass, and multiple buttons of varying colors.  
"The TM-1300 Prototype?" Paren exclaimed in awe as he picked up the device. "I thought I destroyed this stupid thing."  
But there it was, in functioning condition, as if he hadn't smashed it to bits. On it was a sticky note, on which was scribbles the words,

You only get one. Now you owe me.

Paren examined the words closely, confused by their meaning. Now you owe me? Who did he owe, and what did he owe them? Was it the same person that brought back the prototype from its previous state of scrap metal in an alleyway?  
"Well, whoever this is, I guess I'm in debt to them," Paren said, stuffing the note in a backpack before strapping it onto his back.

Outside, the commissioner who had been holding the microphone was still awaiting the return of the S.W.A.T. unit he had sent in ten minutes ago. It had begun raining, but not there was no forecast of lightning. Suddenly, he heard a commotion coming from the second story, and saw flashing lights sourcing from the criminal's window.  
"Commissioner, the unit is not responding," a cop announced.  
"What happened, are coms down?" The commissioner asked.  
"No sir," the police officer answered fearfully, "they're all dead."  
"God damnit!" The commissioner shouted as he slammed his fist onto the hood of a cop car. "It seems that they are armed and dangerous. Davis!"  
"Yes, sir?" A nearby detective responded.  
"Have you evacuated all civilians within a block of the building?"  
"Yes, sir. We have also positioned snipers are several vantage points, but none of them have a visual."  
"Call in to headquarters, see if we can get a green light."

Paren moved aside the curtain and glanced out the window, and saw the officer who had been holding the megaphone was now conversing with someone over the phone. But he wasn't trying to focus on that. He needed a way out of the house, but the only viable exit he had was the front door, which just so happen to be where the entire police force was waiting for him.  
"Okay, so that's a no on the door," he brainstormed, "there's no basement for me to hide out in and no back doors at all. I'm not jumping out through the window, I'd just land in front of them all. There are just too many on the ground for me to escape that way."  
He noticed the officer hang up his phone, then called over one of the soldiers. He whispered something into his ears, to which the soldier gave a look of surprise. But after a stern look from the officer, the soldier called something into his walkie-talkie. This was followed by the tank backing up from the front door and onto the other side of Baylean.  
"Oh thank goodness," Paren rejoiced, "that's one less thing to worry about at least."  
Then the tank stopped completely, and its top slowly rotated, halting when the barrel was pointed a floor below the window he was looking out of. The barrel was then raised a few inches.  
"Ohhhh SHIT!" Paren shouted as he dove away from the window.  
The was a loud boom of the tank firing its round at the bedroom, accompanied by an earth trembling explosion that left a massive hole at the point of contact. The commissioner motioned for a pair of binoculars, and closely examined the wreckage. He called into his walkie.  
"Does anyone have a visual on the target?"  
He was met with a negative response from most people, except for some from the sniper team. Two of the eagle eyes just kneeled with their scopes zoomed in on who, or what, they believed to be the target. One of them just couldn't force the words out. The other one had similar difficulty, but he was eventually able to respond.  
"Uh, sir?"  
"What is it Eagle Squad?"  
"Is the, uhm, target a small, yellow mouse-like animal?"  
"What? No, of course not! You know exactly what the target looks like!"  
"Well, the only thing I'm seeing is-"  
"It's a f*cking pikachu!!!"  
The commissioner looked over at the soldier who said this, but stopped himself from speaking when he saw the man staring intently towards the giant hole in the apartment. His head swung around to look at it, and there he saw it standing just at the ledge. It was now pouring with rain, and the commissioner could barely see the hole through the waterfall of rain. But then he saw it, a small, yellow mouse with bright red cheeks and the weirdest tail he had ever seen in his life.  
"What the hell is that thing?" He questioned with a hint of awe.  
"Sir, I think that IS the target."  
He then spotted what the strange creature was carrying in his furry arms. It was none other than the prototype they were instructed to retrieve, and that their target was the last one seen with it.  
"Son of a bitch, that must be Paren then," the commissioner said, grabbing the megaphone. "Hey Paren. I am the commissioner of this police force. Now, you get a decision here. You can either give us that device, and we take you in for stolen property and murder. You'll get about thirty or so years to life, not too bad."  
Paren looked at him, perplexed by the idea that thirty years in jail was "not too bad."  
"Or, you try and run with that prototype. We already have a green light on firearms, and you seem smart enough to know what comes next."  
He was right. Paren had snipers scoping in on him, and there were almost twenty men down there that were equipped with a gun. Escaping would prove extremely difficult and dangerous, if not entirely impossible. If he just gave up, he would at least get out with his life.  
"There is no way I am going to prison for doing what was right. It's not like they can understand me anyways, so how can I get a fair trial?" Paren thought to himself. "Ahh screw it, I'm running."  
"Well Paren, are you coming down or will we have to come and get you?" The commissioner asked humorously.  
There was a feeling of static in the air, an unreal one that the commissioner seldom experienced. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning shot down and hit the pikachu, followed by a blinding light and an ear-shattering boom of thunder. The commissioner looked back to see the yellow mouse had somehow ran away.  
"Does anyone have a visual on the target?" He shouted over the pending of rain.  
"No sir," a detective replied, "the sniper team had been temporary blinded from the light, no one knows where he's ran off to."  
"Damnit! Call in a chopper! Everyone spread out across this city! We are looking for a small, yellow mouse with a jagged tail! Move!"

Paren laid motionless on top of the roof, paralyzed with shock, emotionally and literally. He was out of breath, barely able to comprehend what had just happened. He remembered the uneasy feeling of static, his tail felt odd, and then there was a blinding light that came from all directions. Then, just like before, he had felt a surge of power, and time crawled at a snail's pace. He couldn't believe that he had jumped twenty feet into the air and latched onto the edge of the roof with his tail.

"So," Paren muttered after catching his breath, "lightning is a... thing."

The little pikachu got up on to his feet, and took the break from action to get a closer look at his new self. He had surprisingly shrunk in height from seven feet to just over twelve inches. He looked back at his huge tail, confused on how his tail could be larger than him. More importantly, how could it look like a... a, a lightning bolt?  
"This is definitely the weirdest Saturday of my life," Paren remarked as he wagged his tail. "I've got a feeling things aren't going to be back to normal anytime soon."  
Paren sat back down, mentally planning out his next move. He had at least half of the police force looking for him, and no family to turn to. There was always Uncle Romero, but he lived on the other side of the country, so that would be a last resort. Where would he go now? Where could he go now? There was no way he could trust any of his friends, especially since he couldn't even trust his own mother. But escaping from the state with not a word to anyone at all? He couldn't just leave his friends without saying goodbye, could he? Lino lived two miles away, an easy bike ride and even easier in a car, but two miles was a lot longer when it came to something of Paren's height.  
He finally decided that his main goal was leaving the city, or at least the immediate area, and then wait for the tension to die down while he waited in someplace that would have people too drunk to realize he was a pikachu.  
"Ooh! Like Vegas?" Paren inquired.  
No. Vegas is also on the other side of the country, though not as far as your uncle. Still, it's a walk across fourteen or more states, and one of them is Nevada.  
"Any better ideas then?" Paren asked.  
I'unno. I've kinda just been going off of what you do, and haven't really thought most of this through. . . . . .

Wait a second, you can hear me?  
"Yeah, why?"  
How long have you been able to hear me?  
Paren thought for a second. "I guess since I turned, I've been hearing a voice in my head. Are you my conscious or something?"  
I..... uh.. I don't know, maybe? All I can do is hang around you and explain your situation.  
"Why would you ever do that though?" Paren asked, "And to whom?"  
I'dunno, you? I just felt it'd be safest if I kept doing that. I don't know what kind of universal timeline these "narrations" I'm doing could be holding up, but the whole things just feels... delicate. Or lazy?  
"So, you're just going to hang around me for now?" Paren questioned. "Cause I feel that would be awkward, like you'd be stalking me."  
I'm not a stalker if I'm your conscious. So, even if I'm not your conscious, you could pretend I am and we won't have to risk destroy any walls of reality or fabrics of time and space.  
"Alright then, I guess it's a plan," Paren stated reluctantly.

Paren began walking to the edge of the roof, the same one he had jumped to, and peered down at the road. All the police cars where, to his gleeful surprise, gone. The yellow mouse carefully climbed down to his room, moving cautiously in spite of the slick water raining down. It was a downpour with no signs of letting up, and that just meant more lightning for our hero.

Once he was on street level, Paren turned back to look at his home. This place that he was leaving, this was all he knew. He had never done so much as stray away from the city, and this country-wide expedition was a drastic jump from his life. He was being forced out of his old life, and into a new one he had no knowledge of. This was the biggest decision of his life.  
Paren sighed deeply, "I'm not sure if I'm ready to go, I mean what if..."  
His voice trailed off into silence as his ears began twitching. The pikachu's head swiveled around the area, looking for the source of the distant noise. It was the sound of a tornado, maybe not as big, but just as dangerous. He looked up to the clouds, identifying a barely visible black dot coming over the horizon of buildings. Paren felt tension build up inside of him with the knowledge that what was about to happen would complicate his plans. He continued to stand still with paralytic fear.

Paren, what're you doing?  
". . ."  
Why are you just standing there?  
". . . . ."  
Paren! The hell's wrong with you?! Run!  
". . . . . . . ."  
Well, shit. You're gonna die, this entire reality is gonna fall apart, and I barely even got to express myself. This was one hell of a short story.  
". . . ."  
Eh, still better than the last one.  
"That's a helicopter."  
No, a helicopter is a fun little RC toy that toddlers try to eat. That, on the other hand, is a Little Bird MD-M6 Helicopter, equipped with dual rotary miniguns. That flying bird of metal death is gonna mow you down if you don't move NOW!  
"What if it isn't coming for me?"  
Really?  
"Yeah, that was a bit too optimistic"  
Oh shi-, FUCKING RUN!!!

Paren turned and began bolting down the street as fast as he could in the opposite direction of the attack helicopter. He looked back at the airborne threat, and saw that it was most definitely coming for him. In an attempt to throw off his pursuer, Paren took a sudden turn and cut right through an alley. Right before he exited the alley, the pikachu stopped to notice how hard it was raining. The water came down like a shower of bullets, pelting the ground painfully. Paren decided to hide out in the alley for now, afraid that there could be anything around either corner. It was easier for him to advance when he was already running, but now his brain started working, and he was starting to freak himself out.  
"Okay, alright, okay," Paren said to himself in a calming manner, "this is perfect. All I need to do is plan ahead, compensate for a few cop cars, figure out where I need to turn and where I can spare a few streets. This is going to go perfect, nothing bad will happen at all."  
I'm not so sure about that Paren, you're the kind of situation that is well known as "fucked".  
"Wow, thanks for the positive encouragement."  
Sorry to put it so realistically for you, but that is just something you need to learn and get comfortable with. Because the 'realism' of this situation is that you are the only thing that the police force is after at this point. That means tons of cop cars, with police officers in all of them, and all of them carrying some form of firearm.  
"Now you're just being annoying. Come on now, can't you just be a little bit more s- SHIT!"  
Paren took off dashing out of the alley after hearing what he believed to be the Bird that was still chasing him. It wasn't. He burst through a pile of trash and onto the street, where several police officers were stationed in their vehicles. They all looked at the yellow electric mouse in disbelief, but the emotions of awe and wonder soon warped into determination. Paren began running, as the cops began blaring their sirens in hot pursuit. It wasn't long until there were even more police cars chasing the pikachu, each individual one giving off a deafening shriek of alarm.  
Then, out of nowhere, Paren heard it. The spin up of a helicopter's dual guns, the deadly notification of his demise. Paren turned around to see that the Little Bird had caught up, and the other police vehicles had slowed down to escape the firing zone of their own aircraft. Paren was too focused on the helicopter that he forgot too look forward at the approaching intersection. He turned just in time. To see a SWAT van positioned right in the middle of the road crossing. The mouse tried to slow down, to cleverly maneuver around the barrier. But he was moving far too fast, and didn't have the time to react. His face slammed right into the van and his momentum carried his unconscious body right under the van.

"Ha ha!" The commissioner proclaimed happily in the copilot seat, "Got the furry little bastard!"  
Once the bird had grounded, he got out, and walked towards the SWAT team. What an easy trap to set! Who could have guessed that such an advanced creature would actually fall right into it? He approached the team with a face of glee, but it quickly changed when he observed confusion across all the SWAT members.  
"Well, where is that yellow monster of a mouse?" He asked worriedly.  
One of them replied, "We... uhh, we don't know where he is, sir."  
"What do you mean?"  
"He hit the van and slid under, but he never came out on the other side."  
"HOW THE HELL DID YOU LOSE TRACK OF THE DAMN THING WHEN HE WAS ONLY OUT OF SIGHT FOR TWO DAMN SECONDS?!!!"

**Author's Note:**

> Hey look, end notes!
> 
> Hello all and others, my name is Dikachupe, you can call me Ross if you feel like it. But, you know, whichever is easiest for you.
> 
> I'm new to this, but this story isn't. I am also posting its chapters to fanfiction.net, but I felt like spreading the whatever.
> 
> Please enjoy, because I put a lot of time into these. And good luck to AO3 on the beta and stuff.


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